by virtue of this madness i surrender completely

to the confusion, the swallowed moon,

the arrogance of him, his

body-scent-gaze

i willfully submerge

my darkness rising

as what he craves is

my soft taffy pulled through

this swallowed moon’s light

what he craves is life

what was, what is though wavy,

and will be

what he craves is woman

rather, this woman

gathered of soft-blow-heat-energy

mystery and magic

who is a seeker, a dreamer, a wanderer

set on the horizon as that is

all she has

(save her perfect/beautiful balance of fear and fascination)

mystery manifests more often than fact

statistics are misleading

and/or mislead

arrogance is our collective downfall

storms cleanse,

dreams deliver

we are fragile

and precious

and love:

love is everything

tonight I am

wavy

feeling the breath of him

woven by the heat, the night,

the undertow music

wanting a bar cherry and

thinking that all journeys lead to this:

wanting to be sucked under again

today i am

misted

braced

working on my language of letting go

and thinking of him

today i am scorned

beware

of this woman

no longer sacrificial

though still soft and round

and full of dream-laden power

today i am

feeling my own darkness

becoming less and less

an open book

considering embracing this new status of woman

as a dirty little secret

fierce from here forward

tonight i am

waiting for someone that this way

will not come…

because

i’m his good, hot, down and low

today i am

glowing

and with him

today i am

contained

spellbound

and, yes, still thinking of him

missing him

hard

and deep inside me

slow, his sweet breath

his unintelligible speak

when he was there

missing his heart

which i still believe to be true

despite his unthinking memes

or maybe they are thinking

maybe they are ironic

or an an invitation, a challenge

i don’t know

but i do know that i must now speak

the language of letting go

as he will no longer share his words,

nor his beautiful body

with this soft-blooming woman I’ve become

full of fire and contradictions

and now sitting in the sun

dreaming her way beneath the surface

of the light-splintered water laid out before her

her true wild heart

beating to his cadence

of

ghosts and poetry and myth and sex-magic

but now i must speak the language of letting go:

dream

d r i f t

reach

new no

l o o k i n g

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